


The Burn of her Neon

by Jadedphase



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1787278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadedphase/pseuds/Jadedphase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Where she led he sometimes found himself following, drawn in by her intense need to experience all around her as though each moment was the very first of her life and would mark the stepping stones to the rest of it.<br/>A thousand times she was born in the golden fury of the morning sunrise and crashed, burned, died in the fall of ebony evening when her eyes dropped shut to sleep. '</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Burn of her Neon

He had made the comment, once, to the theme of not knowing how anyone raised in the shadows between the life carried on above the floors could be sane. She must have existed in a world where the darkness was safe and the lights above carried the threat of discovery; the life of a ghost.

But when Monty saw her in the sunlight, blazing bright and laughing with reckless joy, he wasn't so sure that she was as sound as she seemed on the surface but she felt more real to him than he could even say of himself with those unsteady steps in that new world. While the rest of them were taking their first breathe she was crying bold to the heavens above to make her presence known, to stake her claim in a new world she would set spinning with the sound of her laughter and the pain of her tears.

She was free in a way none of them could fathom, and she was determined to spend her freedom well.

Mad indeed, but Octavia's madness was simply different than the usual, and it was glorious. 

He leaned the truth in surprising ways as the days tipped one into another and the world around them came into vivid focus; greens and blues, golds and wildflower rainbows if a person knew here to look in the deep, darkest spots amid the trees. His world expanded into a spectrum he had never known into sights and tastes that had existed only in dreams he may have borrowed from heavy smoke in his lungs.  
But above all of those things she gleamed with the sharpest hues, where she moved she carried her own light glittering in her powerful wake.

Where she led he sometimes found himself following, drawn in by her intense need to experience all around her as though each moment was the very first of her life and would mark the stepping stones to the rest of it. A thousand times she was born in the golden fury of the morning sunrise and crashed, burned, died in the fall of ebony evening when her eyes dropped shut to sleep. 

A thousand times he couldn't help but wait with baited breath for the sunrise.

Once, in a moment he keeps solely for himself and never speaks of, she smiled at him with an understanding that ached all the way to his bones. Monty did not need to confess that he understood why so many were tugged into her gravitational pull nor did Octavia need mention that his peaceful manner was a wash of cooling waters over those who were lucky enough to need him.

Once, if only for that second, she chose him over the rest of the chaos she gathered around herself like a protecting wall. 

He learned that she was electricity and the color of what he has to think pure light must be, a million hues dancing over her skin like liquid glass in the firelight. She was curled up in delicate wrapping over bones built by the generations before her and a touch that knew the wisdom granted to every woman or man seeking to read another with the trail of their eager fingertips.

And he was all twisted up when he was twisted with her, so brief, the span of a kiss that lasted forever and colored his blood in the hues that reflected in her eyes. 

Touch and taste like fire, hands and lips to fuel the intensity; where they had already been in life was penned into their skin waiting to be discovered. And even if it was wrong once Monty took that first breath of shared air he was caught up in her wave of madness and dizzy from the infection in his mind left behind by the way her hands found his hair and curled into the strands, letting go even as she held on so tightly. 

Neither of them made promises, neither of them was childish enough to think they needed to; there was solace in the fire and ice of each other and that was enough. It didn't have to be more, both had lost any need to look past where the night would allow them to see.

The moment seemed so long, so stolen, they hid themselves away in the coil of life she wrapped around them with such desperation; they both needed a moment to connect and to feel the loneliness crack and fall away, let it sink into the dust where they lay, to be swept away with all the rest of the grime that marked their tired skin begging to be wiped clean by the shock of sensation. 

Like air in his lungs when she drew him closer with her welcoming gaze and her emotions left sweating like the thrum of war drums through her veins with the coax of his fingers over the places she guided him to; for that night they were the last ones standing in a world that had collapsed into a gray haze all around their skyline-bright burst of colors.

It wasn't, for a brilliant moment, about the uncertain future still being decided for her or his clinging to the past that no longer held the places he had once felt safe; it was about the darkness keeping their secret while under tense skin they glowed like neon in the light of each other.

And by morning Octavia had taken her first steps into life once more while Monty had picked back up his past to dust it off; in the end so little had changed and in the same breath everything had. They could share a smile of friendship and leave the rest where it belonged; buried in a night illuminated by reckless, beautiful madness.


End file.
